Songbird
by kaname's harisen
Summary: (Fantasy!AU) The sharp point of the weapon – running lightly, carefully over her jugular – was not what had Sakura's heart pounding, but rather the woman holding it. The King's silver-haired concubine was truly a sight to behold.
1. prelude

**Written for the #KakaSakuDevotion Summer Contest 2014**

**Genre: **Fantasy AU, Romance, Gender-bender  
**Warnings: **Language, Sensuality, Implied Sexual Content, possible spoilers through chapter 689

For this contest, I was given seven prompts, the first of which - _Running Away by Elliot Minor _- was the inspiration for this chapter. Also, the deadline is August 31st, so I'll be doing my best to post updates as quickly as possible. No guarantees, though - I'm currently fighting a pretty nasty headcold.

**Disclaimer:** Naruto belongs to Kishimoto. I am merely playing in the sandbox he has created. I am most definitely not receiving any monetary compensation for my child's play

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_The music's louder now__  
__So you can see__  
__Stop running away_

**Running Away / Elliot Minor**

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**( prelude )**

**. ~ { **_that which comes before and leads to something else _**} ~ .**

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_Long ago, the enemies of Konoha – Suna, Oto, and Akatsuki – came together to besiege the fair country. They claimed to have been wronged by the previous ruler and demanded recompense in the form of the dissolution of Konoha's monarchy by its current leader's beheading. King Hashirama, being quite fond of his head, attempted to negotiate a peace treaty, but it was to no avail. In truth, there had been no offense; the foreign kings wanted nothing more than to plunder its riches, each wishing to take a part of Konoha for themselves. Thus, they were rigid in their demands - only the king's blood would appease them. _

_As the months passed in stalemate, the kingdom began to fall into despair._

_You see, Konoha was not always the strong kingdom it is today. It did not have armies of soldiers with war horses and forged weapons. During the time that the Senju clan ruled, there was only one regiment in its army, and the might of those few, though highly skilled they were, would not be enough to protect the people. The horde would surely overrun them, once the siege had sufficiently weakened the men of Konoha. It was only a matter of time._

_Worried for his life and throne, King Hashirama took aside Madara of the Uchiha clan, his right-hand man and warrior of unique skill, and gave him a task of utmost importance – to find the Tree of Life. And so, with a supply-laded horse, an ancient scroll recounting the Tree's location, and his sword, Madara stealthily made haste to the country of Taki. After two days of hard riding and avoiding enemy scouts, he found the Valley of Waterfalls, hidden deeply within the dense forest. As the meadow opened up before him, the path he had been following ended abruptly. In the distance, he could see a single tree – unnaturally tall, with its leaves shimmering magically in the bright sun – and Madara knew that it was his destination. Dismounting his steed, the soldier made the rest of the journey by foot._

_The valley, though picturesque with its extravagant flora and lush green grass, gave off a chilling aura. It unsettled the man, but he merely drew his sword and continued on. As he neared the outer roots of the massive tree, bones began to litter the earthen floor, femurs and skulls that could only be identified as human. But still the man did not falter. No, it was only when Madara saw a woman, perched serenely on one of the tree's sturdy branches, that he slowed his steps._

_She was otherworldly, with long pale hair and strange markings upon her brow. Power rolled off of her in unseen waves, leaving an acrid scent in his nostrils, and the fine hairs on his neck stood on end. Instinct had him gripping his sword tighter, readying himself for battle. But Madara, his eyes shifting from deepest black to glowing scarlet, pushed down the urge and cast aside his weapon, burying the point deep into the loamy soil._

_You see, Madara had a gift, one that made him a rather formidable foe. His eyes could pierce the heart, revealing desires and exposing truths hidden behind a well-kept façade._

_This woman carried both death and life in her heart, and which one she would choose to heap upon him depended entirely on his own actions. Should he choose violence, she would severe his head from his body with but a thought, such was the extent of her magic. _

_Madara wisely chose life._

_Surprised by his gesture, the woman's heart softened towards him and she spoke, "You are the first to have ever lain down arms before me. Traveler, what is it that you seek?"_

"_Simply your name, milady," he replied in a reverent hush, as one besotted, "and to be in your presence for as long as you will allow. In truth, I was sent out on a mission to retrieve the fruit from the Tree. My land is besieged and my King in great peril. But none of that is of any consequence now, not in the light of your beauty."_

_She leapt to the ground, landing lightly on her toes, and began to circle around him. Her eyes ran over his form and studied his expression, and when she could find no fault in either, she spoke again. "You may call me Kaguya. Come, Traveler, you must be weary."_

_Madara eagerly followed Kaguya to her home. His ploy had worked, and now that she believed him to be smitten with her, he could manipulate the situation to his own will. Kaguya was indeed very beautiful, her visage more pleasing than any of the women in Konoha, and her powers enticed him. With her at his side – her magic loyal to him, her blood swimming through his descendants' veins – he could build the Uchiha clan a glorious future. So when night fell and he could see the loneliness grow in her heart, Madara seduced her._

_In the morning, he asked Kaguya to return to Konoha with him. At first she refused. Her soul was bound to the power of the fruit and thus, her body could not leave its side. But when Madara persisted, she plucked the fruit from the top of the Tree, carefully wrapping it within the folds of her robes, and went with him. Along the way, the woman worked her magic, cloaking their presence from Konoha's enemies, and they reached the King's keep on the sixth day after Madara's departure._

_Murmurs of their arrival preceded them, and King Hashirama had them brought directly to his throne room. There Hashirama met them and, forgoing the customary greeting, demanded that they hand over the fruit. The change in the King's countenance – his hair and clothes unkempt, bloodshot eyes holding an unnatural sheen – was drastic, and Madara feared Kaguya's retribution at being treated so poorly. But the woman merely bowed graciously before the crazed man, offering the fruit to him._

"_The fruit holds the power of longevity and resilience, granting any who partake of it those same qualities. A single bite is sufficient."_

"_I am already aware, you stupid wench," Hashirama answered as he snatched it from her hands. "Now I shall be a god among mortals!"_

_The King took a large bite and, as the juice dribbled down his chin, an energy settled over him. He gazed down at the fruit in his hands in wonder, feeling the power begin to course through his veins, and the need for more consumed him. Hashirama took another bite and was struck down dead._

"_I told you that one bite was sufficient," Kaguya spat out at the corpse, eyes narrowed in contempt. "You should have listened. Greed corrupts the fruit's gift."_

"_What shall we do now?" Madara asked, looking at his fallen lord. "Without a king, Konoha's enemies will surely attack."_

"_It needn't be without, love. Here," – Kaguya placed the fruit into his open palm – "eat and we shall meet your enemies together."_

_Madara rolled the fruit over, running his fingertips over its smooth skin. The flesh was whole once again, as if Hashirama had never taken a bite of it all, let alone a second. Finding the woman's words about the fruit to be true, he took a single bite._

_Then, hand in hand with his future wife, Madara laid waste to the armies of Konoha's enemies, ushering in an era of peace and prosperity._

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**{ oOo }**

The storyteller ended his narration, the puppets of the triumphant couple bowing their wooden heads low to the makeshift stage, and the crowd began to disperse. The old man, short and squat, shook his empty collection tin, raising his voice to encourage those within hearing range to offer payment for their enjoyment of his services. Some readily complied, their money tinkling merrily against the metal container, though most people avoided his eyes and scuttled away.

Sakura stood in the shadows, her gray garments blending into the cold stone at her back, and watched the entertainer shake his head in disappointment at the meager sum he had collected. The young woman pulled her thin cloak more securely around her body, careful to keep her face hidden deep within its hood, and she stepped seamlessly into the moving mass of people. In her pocket, she rubbed two worn coins between her fingers, before squeezing them tightly into her palm.

She knew she shouldn't do it. That little bit of money was all she had left, aside from the clothes on her back. Not to mention that the old man's tale wasn't even true to history; the story was merely a pretty piece of propaganda spread throughout the land by the current ruling family, something that she loathed to support. But another glance at the man – his face pale, with sunken eyes and shoulders hunched in resignation – and the deal was sealed. Sakura tossed the coins into the tin with the rest the show's earnings and quickly left the courtyard.

Her stomach growled in protest.

With an arm wrapped around her middle, a vain attempt to dull the growing ache, Sakura put her head down and walked on. Finding a meal wouldn't be that difficult of an endeavor today, anyway.

It was the current king's twenty-first birthday and the city was bustling, with both the commoners and the upper class taking part in the festival for his honor. Plays, historical recitations, and puppet shows – like the one Sakura just witnessed – were taking place in each of the various neighborhoods of Konoha. Large, colorful tents littered the streets, creating spaces for merchants to sell their wares. There were areas devoted to games of skill, wherein a child could win a prize or young man could hope to impress a young lady. Others sections boasted festival keepsakes, like dolls handcrafted into the likeness of the Uchiha monarchs or red and white paper fans that mimicked the Uchiha clan crest.

In the past, Sakura would have been filled with excitement at the prospect of these things, of playing games and shopping and celebrating. But not now, not when so much had changed for her. No, now her only objective was to find one of the many food tents, use her wiles to secure a meal, and find a place to sleep for the night.

So as Sakura walked, her shrewd green eyes surveyed the crowd. Food vendors were some of the poorest working people in the city and her conscience would not allow her to steal from them, no matter how hungry she was. But stealing from the wealthy? That she had no qualms about. All she needed was to find the right target.

It took a few minutes, but the young woman eventually found her mark. The man looked to be very nearly her own age, somewhere in his late teens or early twenties, and his fine cloak was a gaudy orange that clashed terribly with his golden blond hair. A large green money pouch hung from his belt in plain sight, jangling happily on his hip like a bullfrog full of flies, as he made his way through the food tent. His tan face held an open, naïve sort of smile and he greeted everyone he passed with equal enthusiasm.

He was perfect.

Sakura followed a few paces behind him, keeping him in sight at all times, and was pleased when his destination turned out to be a noodle vendor. She waited until he'd received his order and, as he began to walk away with the steaming cup, she moved directly into his path. Caught up in his meal as he was, the man didn't even see her. The collision, her shoulder bumping firmly into his chest, put them both off-balance and the noodles jostled roughly about, spilling down his front and over Sakura's hood.

"I am so sorry," Sakura exclaimed, staring at the man with a look of affected horror. Then she pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and began to sop up the mess from his shirt. "I should have been watching where I was going. Please, sir, let me help you."

"Don't worry about it. These things happen, right?" he replied with a grin. His blue eyes twinkled merrily. "Besides, it just gives me a reason to get some more noodles. Mr. Ichiraku makes the best in all the city!"

She stowed the cloth away and bowed. "You're very kind, sir."

"Really, it's nothing," he said as he turned back the direction he'd just come from, moving back towards the noodle stall. Then he called over his shoulder, "Enjoy the rest of the festival!"

As she walked away, Sakura patted her pocket and the muffled tinkling of the coins wrapped inside her handkerchief made her grin. "Thanks, I will."

She'd eat well tonight.

**.**

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**{ oOo }**

"Time to wake up, boy."

Sakura gasped as her back met forcefully with the alleyway wall, and her eyes flew open. It took a couple of seconds to gather her wits, to reorient herself with the waking world, but when she did, she nearly groaned.

Her assailant towered over her by at least a foot and his pale frame, colored an unnatural gray-blue, was muscled and sturdy. On his back there was a large sword the make of which she had never seen before. His eyes caught her line of sight and with a menacing grin, he gnashed his oddly-pointed teeth at her, smiling widely when she flinched. There was something predatory, almost shark-like about him. He was not from Konoha, that much was for certain.

_Dammit_, she inwardly groused, _this is not how I wanted to wake up this morning._

She kicked out at the goon, striking his abdomen sharply with her heel, but it had no helpful effect. The vice-grip on her cloak merely tightened, pinning her more firmly against the solid stone. As Sakura moved to strike again, this time with her knee, the man countered the attack by thumping her over the head. The force of the blow made her vision swim and her eyes water, yet she refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.

"That's enough, Kisame," a second man ordered, and Sakura stiffened, instantly recognizing the deep, aloof voice. Half hidden in the long, early morning shadows was none other than Itachi, traitor of the Uchiha clan. He stepped into the light and calmly continued. "Miss Sakura is lady and should be treated as such. I don't appreciate you roughing up those in my employ."

"Are you sure?" Kisame looked her over, up and down and back again, and frowned. "Rather scrawny for a woman, if you catch my meaning. Not dressed the part either. I mean look at the thing - it's wearing breeches."

Sakura started to struggle again and this time, he let her go. The suddenness of his release caught her off guard and caused her to stumble. In the process, her hood fell backwards, exposing her head.

Kisame let out a short whoop of a laugh. "Now I see. No man," – one hand caught her roughly by the chin while the other smoothed over her short hairstyle – "has a face that pretty. Or pink hair."

Sakura's cheeks burned red as she jerked away from his touch. It wasn't often that her ruse got discovered, but the reaction to it was almost always the same – disrespect. And she hated it, the differences in the way people treated her when they thought she was a man from how they treated her when they knew she was a woman. It was the reason she dressed as she did; she was a woman alone in a man's world and she needed every advantage just to survive.

"New partner, I see," she spat out at the Uchiha. "What happened to Shisui? Did he finally get tired of your shit?"

"Now, Sakura," Itachi chided, "you know we're not here to talk about that. We're here because you've failed, yet again, to bring me what I want."

Sakura bristled. "I did exactly what you told me to, but it wasn't in the royal vaults. I held up my end of the bargain. It was your information that was bad." She crossed her arms, her green eyes defiant. "_Again_."

"I've had some issues ascertaining the location. It seems that Sasuke has decided to move it," he conceded. "But that does not change the terms of our contract. I am beginning to run out of patience."

"Unless you have some new information for me to go on, this conversation is pointless."

"Running away, huh? Won't Sasori love to hear that?" Kisame interjected. "He's been chomping at the bit to get at your old lady. Chiyo was her name? Oh yeah, that's it. He's just waiting for word that you've failed, then he's going to play with her real good. When he's done with her, she'll be nothing more than a shell."

"I don't think that will be necessary quite yet. Do you, Sakura?" Itachi stalked forward, his aura full of cold menace, and whispered into her ear. "You have a fortnight. After that, I will turn your dear granny over to the Puppet Master. I'm sure you've heard all about what he does to his victims."

"Yes," she whispered back. Panic swelled inside her throat, making the airway tight, and breathing became a difficult thing. Sakura gulped and forced the feeling back down, letting it settle instead as nausea in her belly. Then after a long, steadying exhale, she challenged the man once again. "But how the hell am I to manage it if I don't know where to look?"

"I think you'll _manage_ just fine." Itachi smiled and slipped a folded piece of parchment into the pocket of her cloak. "Come, Kisame. We've lingered too long."

"Well, I guess I'll see you around, girlie."

Sakura held her ground until she was sure that they were truly gone, and then she emptied her stomach, collapsing onto her knees on the dirty cobblestone floor. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she thought about Granny Chiyo at the hands of that madman, but she refused to let them fall. There was simply no time for dramatics. She had to be strong, had to save the old woman. Sakura composed herself as best she could and, after roughly rubbing her sleeve over her face a couple of times, she pulled out the paper that Itachi had given to her.

_._

_._

_._

_It is in the Concubine's care._

_Plain mahogany box with a silver lock._

_Magically warded and sealed._

_Be on guard for her familiar._

_The Songbird's tune can still the beating of a human heart._


	2. etude

Since I didn't manage to complete this fic in time for the contest - _40,000-50,000 words (what I'm projecting as this story's final word count) is a tall order order, after all, and I've been swamped with RL stuff_ - I've decided I'm just going to take my time and do this right. I'll be aiming for an update about every two weeks.

Anyway, here's one more Sakura-centric chapter before we get some good ole kakasaku interaction...

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_Can't see the silver lining  
From down here on the floor__  
__And I just keep on trying__  
_  
**Trying Not To Love You / Nickelback**

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**( etude )**

**. ~ { **_that which is a study or exercise in technique _**} ~ .**

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Sakura put her hands on her hips and looked up at the dark sky. The only illumination, apart from the faint twinkling of the stars, came from the pair of torches standing sentinel on either side of the castle's main entrance. The moon was nowhere to be seen, invisible in its waning cycle.

The structure in front of her could be described as imposing or intimidating, Sakura supposed. And in fact, that was exactly what most people thought upon seeing it for the first time. It rose from the ground in a grand, triple-forked spiral, a hundred foot wonder of architectural form, and was surrounded on three sides by a curved stone wall, nearly fifty high and twenty feet wide. Each section of the spiral was a separate wing of the castle – one for the royal family, one for guests, and one for the servants – and the space created between each section had corresponding uses. There were separate courtyards and walking gardens, in various degrees of opulence, for both the royal family and guest wings, while a vegetable garden and orchard adjoined the servants' section.

Behind the castle stood an enormous cliff of pure granite, the majority of its face sheer and smooth, which completed the circle of protection around the Uchiha clan's grounds. Craftsmen skilled in the art of stone masonry were kept on retainer by each generation of the ruling family and their work could be seen on a portion of the natural formation. Each Uchiha king and queen that had sat upon Konoha's throne – Madara, Kaguya, Zetsu, Obito, and now, Sasuke – were immortalized in the great rock, their carved faces glaring down on the city below. The stern stone monarchs could be seen from miles away, a not-so-subtle reminder as to whom presided over the land.

The sound of raucous laughter drifted out from the guard shack situated just to the left of the gate, drawing Sakura's attention, and she melted into the deeper shadows at her back. A few moments later, it subsided and silence once again settled over the sleepy city.

With a shake of her head and a wide, wide grin, Sakura walked around the corner.

It was time to implement her plan.

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**.**

**{ oOo }**

"You there, take this up to Master Naruto's study, then report to Karin in the upper supply room. They need another set of hands in housekeeping." The King's head of household, a soft spoken man named Juugo, gave her an appraising once-over. "I hope you're a hard worker. That woman can be rather demanding."

Sakura took the proffered platter, heavy with succulent fruits, rich cheeses and two servings of fragrant noodles, and nodded. "Yes, sir, I am."

Her affirmation did nothing to remove the doubtful look on his face, but his attention was soon diverted by the query of another employee. She was dismissed after receiving a vague description of where her destination was located and, after shifting her burden to rest steadily on her shoulder, Sakura left to carry out her task.

Master Naruto wasn't there when she arrived, much to her disappointment. Sakura was curious, after all. The story going around Konoha was that Naruto, last living member of the much respected Uzumaki clan, was the not actually the King's chief advisor, but rather his most favored consort. Meeting the man behind the rumor, seeing for herself if he was truly as handsome as the tales portrayed him to be, would have brightened her day considerably. She contemplated lingering just a bit, on the off-chance that he would arrive soon. But since she was positive that she had the correct room – it had been easy to locate, in spite of the lousy instructions she'd received – Sakura merely left the meal on the man's desk and went about her business. There was no sense in getting into trouble for snooping on her first day, not when said trouble could hinder her mission.

Finding Karin wasn't hard either, as this wasn't Sakura's first time in the castle. Nor was it her second or third, for that matter. In trying to retrieve Itachi's item, she had infiltrated the place on many an occasion. It was quite a simple endeavor, actually.

King Sasuke was a proud man, possessing an extra helping of the quiet strength and unnatural vigor that the Uchiha clan was known for. From the time he was but a boy, his tutors were amazed by his genius, both in academics and physical pursuits. Unlike many of the previous rulers, he chose to stand on his own strength and did not keep a bodyguard or royal forces within the castle. There were wards, of course – put in place by his concubine, a woman said to be greatly skilled in protective magicks – which prevented his known enemies from entering, and a pair of guards were stationed outside at the sturdy iron gate. But all other threats the King chose to dispatch himself. The lack of watchful personnel that this system brought about worked in Sakura's favor; sneaking in was easy, if you knew what weaknesses to exploit.

So here she was, dressed in the practical blue uniform worn by the King's lower servants – a long, cinched tunic with breeches and a headscarf – with free rein to wander about the place virtually unimpeded. She had pilfered the garments from the laundry the previous night, gaining access through one of the many water outlets that the room contained. In the morning, she'd donned the outfit and reported for duty as a new employee. As there was a high turnover rate for those in the King's domestic employ, no one had been the wiser.

Sakura spent the rest of the day doing exactly as she was told, keeping her head down and working diligently at all her assigned tasks. Karin truly was a tyrant, taking extra pleasure in seeing Sakura given all the most disgusting jobs. But Sakura held her tongue and worked on. This was an important part of her plan. If she was going to make it past the Concubine and her Songbird, Sakura needed inside information, some solid reconnaissance, and she knew her best bet was here. Someone had to know something. After all, a concubine wasn't exactly in the habit of cleaning her own chambers or cooking her own meals.

So throughout the day Sakura studied the layout of the castle interior, taking special note of the areas she hadn't previously been in, and kept her eyes and ears open, all while trying not to give her boss a reason to single her out. Then, as the night deepened, she drifted off after the long day's work – in her tiny bed in her equally tiny assigned room – and tried to push down the growing need to punch Karin in the throat. Or the glasses… oh yes, definitely the glasses.

_It could be worse_, Sakura thought as her brain began to shut down. _It's better than digging through garbage and sleeping with rats._ Then an image flashed behind her eyes – her boss's smile, twisted with manic glee – and it made Sakura amend her mental statement.

_Well, the food's better, but I think I prefer the rats._

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**{ oOo }**

Her second day was marginally better than her first, at least in terms of her mission.

While scrubbing out an entire castle's worth of chamber pots, Sakura got an earful of the latest gossip, courtesy of a butler-in-training and the chef's pretty assistant. Most of it was inane dribble – a foreign dignitary caught with his children's governess, a female stable-hand fired for flirting with Master Naruto in the King's presence, and other such stories – but there was one tidbit that sent her pulse racing.

It happened so quickly that she almost missed it, the mild complaint from the kitchen worker about the uppity attitude of the Concubine's personal maidservant. In that brief moment of grumbling, Sakura finally got the vital piece of information that she needed to proceed to phase two of her plan – a name.

_Ino of the Yamanaka clan_.

It was a solid bit of progress, and it brought her that much closer to being able to quit the pretense of a being a good little servant. Surely the Concubine's personal servant could enter her master's quarters and as such would have knowledge about how to deal with the Songbird. With a little luck, Sakura could be ready to enter the final phase of her mission by tomorrow night.

She probably should have felt some sort of relief, or maybe exultation, over that small triumph, but as Sakura continued to scrub away the piss and shit from the royal crappers, she felt nothing but the desire to see Karin, that red-haired demon, on the business end of her fist.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**{ oOo }**

Sakura's third day was spent in the futile pursuit of tracking down one Ino Yamanaka.

The woman proved to be quite an obscure target. According to the bits of gossip Sakura had gleaned since her arrival, Ino wasn't required to be at any of the otherwise mandatory staff meetings and she had no supervisor to report to, instead being directly accountable to the Concubine. That meant she was rarely in the employee common areas. And since Ino was responsible for all of her master's needs – from cleaning to food preparation and everything in between – she was never in any one place for very long.

To top off the challenging situation, due to the need to avoid suspicion, Sakura was limited to indirect queries about the maid servant. It wasn't like it was on the streets, where she could interrogate to her heart's content for the price of a couple coins, safe under the anonymity of her hooded cloak, and then simply walk away. No, here she was a known entity and if she didn't want to alert the wrong people, she had to tread lightly. So Sakura kept her inquiries very basic, though the execution of said inquiries was anything but. The sheer amount of variations she had to compose of the question, "Someone-in-a-position-of-authority sent me to find this girl, can you help me?", bordered on ridiculous, and the repetitious nature of it all was nearly enough to make her scream.

But worse than any of that was the fact that all Sakura had received for her efforts thus far was a somewhat-hazy idea of what the woman looked like. Apparently, Ino was a young woman of above-average beauty, with blonde hair, a haughty demeanor, and blue, calculating eyes. But since Sakura had yet to catch a glimpse of anyone that fit that description, whether within the castle or without, the knowledge was of little to no consequence.

Frankly, the wild goose chase was starting to piss her off.

After several hours, and nothing to show for it, Sakura's search got cut short and her day went from bad to worse. Karin was unsatisfied with the quality of one of Sakura's jobs _– there were wrinkles in the drapes; simply unacceptable for a room that the King may deign to walk into_ – and decided it was time to dole out some proper punishment, making an example of the 'new girl' for all to see.

With a smug grin, the housekeeping head loudly informed everyone that Sakura was now the sole person responsible for renovating the old meat cellar and, to a chorus of horrified gasps, sent her promptly on her way. So for the remainder of her shift, plus several more hours of overtime and a missed meal, Sakura was stuck in that dirty and dank place, which still smelled strongly of rotting flesh, to clean and prep it for future use. When she was finally – _finally_! – finished, Sakura felt dirtier than she had in her entire life, including the past few months that she had spent living on the street, and so she dragged herself straight to the bathhouse, foregoing dinner.

As she lingered in the servant's bath, futilely trying to scrub the rank smell from her skin, the need to cause bodily harm to Karin's haughty face burned even brighter in Sakura's heart. It would be so easy. She knew exactly where the evil woman's quarters were and Sakura was quite skilled in lock picking. She could be in and out, striking Karin with enough force to knock her out, without even raising the alarm. Of course, come morning her transgression would be out in the open and there would be consequences to bear. So once again, she dutifully ignored the impulse in favor of her mission and, since the kitchen was now closed for the night, simply returned to her room.

But when she arrived, there was something off about the surroundings, something different. Sakura couldn't put her finger on it, the incongruity, and it set all her nerves on end, wondering if perhaps someone had seen through her pretense and was waiting for her just inside. The young woman put her back to the door, making her profile as small as possible, and inched the door open. It wasn't necessarily the wisest of decisions – she had no weapon and anyone who might in there would have the element of surprise working in their favor – but she couldn't stay in the hallway all night. Her breath stilled in her chest as she peered into the darkness. There was nothing there, at least nothing that her sight immediately registered. She opened the door farther and still nothing happened.

No enemies jumping out to ambush her.

No angry bosses chastising her.

Not even the sound of a scurrying rodent.

Absolutely nothing but the delicious smell of freshly baked bread.

Satisfied that no one was currently in her quarters and that it was safe, Sakura finally walked in, carefully shutting the door and locking it behind her. After lighting a candle, she flopped down on her bed with a deep sigh. Weariness crept in as the adrenaline subsided, her bones suddenly as heavy as lead, and it took the last of her strength to roll onto her side so that she could inspect the new addition to the room. On the small side table to the right of the headboard was a covered plate and a hastily written letter, neither of which had been there when she'd left this morning. With a lazy hand, Sakura picked up the paper.

_New girl,_

_Noticed you missed dinner._  
_Word is that it was because of that spectacled bitch.  
__Well, any enemy of Karin's is a friend of mine._

_Enjoy,  
__Suigetsu_

_PS – Ino's normally running around in the royal wing.  
__If you see her, tell her I'm tired of baking all these damn sesame cakes for her._

Curiosity brought her a fresh wave of energy, and Sakura sat up. Under the cloth napkin was a simple, yet hearty feast – still-warm bread, cheese, and a large bunch of red grapes. Sakura was quick to note that there was not a piece of meat to be seen anywhere on the platter.

The chef, for all his many, _many_ rough edges, was truly a wonderful man.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**{ oOo }** **  
**

On the fourth day, inspired by her late night correspondence, Sakura decided a change of tact was in order. Rather than expending the energy to find Ino, Sakura began to stakeout the Concubine's personal quarters. It wasn't the easiest of propositions, not when she still had actual work to do and an over-inflated bully of a boss to avoid, but she did her best. She took every opportunity presented to be nearby – requested jobs that were in the area, walked the long way around the castle because she 'needed to stretch her legs', and spent her few short breaks patrolling the connecting corridor, doing her best to have her presence appear to be casual or coincidental when others passed by her.

But still Sakura had no luck.

Her frustrated anger of the previous day began to wane, shifting into something that closely resembled panic. Itachi had given her a strict deadline to adhere to this time, and the consequences of any failure on her part would be directed at Chiyo. Sakura couldn't let that happen. The old bat was tough and tenacious to be sure, having lived in the harsh climes of Suna for most of her long life, but the Puppet Master had a way of breaking people down and hollowing them out.

Sakura had been the nursemaid of one of his victims once, back when she was still considered respectable and therefore eligible for an occupation of skill; now, being a young woman without parents or a husband, she was neither in the eyes of most. She had first-hand knowledge of how Sasori of the Akasuna tribe had received his chilling moniker. The ways in which he tortured his victims, how he pulled their strings, left them empty, their minds broken and gone and never to return. Even Chiyo – her strong, infuriatingly stubborn Granny Chiyo – would not be able remain intact under his care.

Sakura was running out of time.

By the time her shift ended, without any new leads or sight of the ever-elusive Ino, Sakura was at her wit's end and running headlong into being completely distraught. There was nothing else for her to do, no other avenues for her to explore, and though she was sure that something – some clue or a chance run in with the right person – would come her way eventually, in this case 'eventually' just wasn't good enough. And again, it all came back to a lack of time.

Against all her better instincts, she made her way back to the Concubine's room, fully intent on throwing her established plan to the wayside. She was going to enter that room and see what she was up against, consequences be damned. So what if the Songbird sang its tune? That whole bit about it stopping a person's heart was probably just a rumor anyway, some random twisting of an old fairy tale that was told merely to add mystique to the Concubine's story.

_That, or Itachi's playing games with my head_, she considered with a brief flash of ire. _Doubtful, but not impossible. I suppose it's time to find out._

Sakura stepped forward, glancing both directions down the hallway to check for any unwanted observers, and when she didn't see anyone, she reached out her hand. As her fingers wrapped around the cold brass knob, they began to shake. For all her bravado, Sakura was nervous, if not a little scared. But she pushed on – past her trembling extremities and shallow breaths and thrumming heartbeat – and slowly turned the handle.

Only to have the door slammed into her face.

It dazed her for a moment, though not because of the force of the blow; sure, it stung, but it was nothing compared to the knock Kisame had given her. The real shock came because the occurrence had taken Sakura completely off-guard. She hadn't thought to check if anyone was in the room before making her move, something that could have been easily ascertained by putting her ear to the door and listening for a few moments, and now she was reaping the consequences.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" a feminine voice groused, pulling Sakura out of her stupor. "Just look at this mess you made!"

Kneeling on the ground was a young woman, her blonde hair pulled up into a high, elegant ponytail. Her robes were the same blue as Sakura's uniform, identifying her as a servant of the royal house, but the fabric and cut were of a much superior quality. Scattered across the floor were the broken pieces of a small earthenware bowl, along with its contents – a mostly eaten slice of cake – and the woman busied herself with picking up the debris and wrapping it up in her handkerchief. After a long moment of awkward silence, the woman scowled and turned her blue eyes on Sakura.

"Well?" she huffed, with a flip of her long hair. "Aren't you going to help me? This is all your fault, you know."

"Oh! Of course," Sakura replied as she dropped to her knees, pulling out her own handkerchief. "I apologize. I was just dazed there for a moment. The door hit me in the forehead."

The other woman gave her a once over, before returning her gaze to Sakura's head, and then giggled. "It _is_ kind of hard to miss, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Sakura bit out. Her large forehead always made her self-conscious and having a stranger comment on it didn't help matters. But she swallowed down her irritation and took advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself. It looked as if she'd found her target; all that was left was to receive the confirmation. "Look, I really am sorry for the mess. The name's Sakura, by the way."

The blonde pointed to herself. "Ino. Nice to meet you."

_Yes!_ Sakura cheered inwardly. _It's about damn time._

"Oh, I know who you are!" Ino continued and her face turned wicked, a small smile curling her lips. "You're the new girl, aren't you? Karin really, _really_ hates you."

"So I've noticed," Sakura dryly remarked, using a sarcastic roll of her eyes to distract from her discomfort. For a moment, Ino's exclamation had made her worry, thinking that her true purpose in the castle had been discovered. Of course, it was just her recently gained notoriety that the blonde was referring to, something Sakura should have realized straight off. Sakura fought hard to hold in an unhappy sigh. Really, there had to be something wrong with her if it was a relief to hear that someone, especially someone in authority over her, hated her.

"Don't take it too personally. She's just a jealous bitch." Ino stood up, holding tight to her now-full handkerchief, and started walking in the direction of the kitchen. Sakura also stood, trailing just behind Ino as she spoke. "She's got this obsessive crush on the King. When she hired on here, she thought that she was being taken in as part of the harem. But apparently, she didn't meet the King's high standards. When Karin found out that she was going to be making the King's bed, rather than bedding him, she kind of snapped. That's how the rumors go anyway. Heaven knows if they're actually true. What I do know is that she likes to pick on the pretty ones. It's a bit of a backhanded compliment, I suppose."

"I heard pretty much the same story. My ego might gain some satisfaction from that," – Sakura groaned, rolling her shoulders – "if my body wasn't so sore from the hell she's been putting me through."

"You should get some rest. I'm sure Karin has some perfectly lovely things planned for you for tomorrow," Ino teased, her free hand clutched tight to her chest as she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Sakura groaned again. "Oh joy."

Both women paused their conversation, having come to a crossroad of sorts. To the left was the hallway that lead to the servant's living quarters, and to the right, the kitchen. Sakura motioned over her shoulder, throwing her thumb roughly in the direction of her room. Ino nodded and pointed at the opposite corridor.

"Well," Sakura said, breaking up the awkward silence, "I guess this is goodnight."

"Yep. Goodnight, Forehead."

And with that, they each began to walk away.

Sakura moved just a few steps before she turned and called out, "Hey, Ino? Do you think maybe we could talk again? It's just…" She put her head down, affecting an air of shy embarrassment. "I haven't really made any friends here yet. I mean, I understand if you don't want to, especially after all the trouble I caused y–"

"Oh, just shut up," Ino interrupted. Her hands were on her hips, the cloth holding the broken bowl dangling from one fist, and her nose was lifted high in the air. But even though the woman's demeanor screamed with exasperation, she was smiling widely. "I'm in room 10A. I'm out a lot – so many guys, so little time, and all that – but if I'm home, you're welcome to join me."

"Thanks," Sakura said, returning the woman's smile. Then, with an air of impressively natural alarm, she covered her mouth. Speaking through her fingers, Sakura exclaimed, "Crap, I almost forgot! I have a message for you!"

Ino crossed her arms, doubt flickering through her bright eyes. "Seriously? We just met."

"I _may_ have been asking around for you." Sakura took a deep breath, letting it out in tiny increments. This turn in their discourse was a dangerous one. She had to play it right – just enough truth thrown in with the deception to be believable, yet not enough to make the woman suspicious – or her whole mission could be shot to hell. "I'm sorry. That came out really creepy. I just meant– I was curious about the King's concubine, okay? I knew there was no way I'd ever get close enough to see her or talk to her or anything. But I thought maybe, if I ran into you, you might have some good stories to tell about her?"

"Yeah, you and everybody else. Hell, that's nothing new." The blonde shrugged. "So? What was it?" When Sakura appeared to be confused, Ino tapped her foot impatiently. "You know, the message?"

"Oh! Suigetsu said," Sakura spat out quickly, "and I quote, '_Tell Ino I'm tired of baking all these damn sesame cakes_'. Whatever the hell that means."

"That silly, stupid man." Ino laughed aloud, her voice tinkling with merriment. "If you see him before I do, you can tell him I said that he won't get any more _favors_ from me if he chooses to have that attitude. Besides, it's not my fault Lady Eika insists upon spoiling that dumb bird."

"I don't understand," Sakura said, frowning.

"The sesame cakes are for the Concubine's pet." Ino enunciated her sentence slowly and carefully, as if she were speaking to child, and then she sighed. "I don't understand it myself, really. She made me take this weird vow that every time I entered her quarters, the first thing I would do was feed her bird a sesame cake. She wouldn't approve my appointment as her servant until I promised to do so. Royals." Ino shook her pretty head. "Anyway, I've got to get going. Got a date with a soldier tonight, a regimental captain, and he's positively yummy. So, I guess I'll see you around? We can trade some stories – you about Karin's ridiculous antics and me about the secret goings-on of the royal family. Deal?"

"I'd like that. But, umm," – Sakura wrung her hands, continuing with her self-conscious-yet-curious act – "can I ask one more question? Before you go?"

"Shoot."

"Is the Concubine… Lady Eika, I mean– Is she really as beautiful as they say?"

"Even more so. Hell, I'd stab someone to have her hair, all sleek and long and silver. It's like damn starlight or something." Ino sighed. "You'll know what I mean when you finally get a chance to see her."

"Yeah, I guess. And thanks."

"No problem. See you later, Forehead."

Sakura watched Ino disappear around the corner before pumping her fist into the air, relief and excitement roaring through her veins. Ino had been a veritable gold mine of information. And with what she gleaned from their conversation, Sakura could move on to the third and final phase of her plan.

Tomorrow night, Sakura was going to steal the Uchiha clan's most prized possession.

.

.

.


End file.
